This is a painted mask.
This is also a painted mask.
This is a complimentary cookie in a wax paper bag stapled to a brown paper bag.
I posted a few days ago about the cow in the time machine
a few minutes later
I sat outside a cafe on a bench waiting for take-out food.
I read about a cow in the book I grabbed on the way out
then again on the previous page
then I looked to see the title of the chapter.
This is…synchronicity.
I told them I was no expert but they signed the contract anyway.
The flight to the cave in the mountains was so long it included five meals.
When it came time to adjust the settings they told me I would be the operator.
They asked me over the intercom what I saw.
I said, ‘A cow.’
They said, A bull belonging to Genghis Khan?
A bull breathing fire?
A bull pulling a chariot across the sky?
I said, ‘A cow in a barn
watching Sonny and Cher sing The Beat Goes On.’
They said, ‘Adjust the settings.’
I did. They said, ‘Where are you?’
I said, ‘I see Rasputin.’
They said, ‘What is he doing?’
I said, ‘Building a time machine.’
poemimage 